Read Online The Warrior Heir by Cinda Williams Chima - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cinda Williams Chima
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history books: consumption, typhoid fever, smallpox. Some deaths were accidental, the descriptions flat: Drowned. Fell from roof. Kicked by a horse.
Linda's lips moved silently as she turned the brittle pages over. "Here it is!" she said tersely. '"Susannah Downey born 1868; farmer's wife; died 12 May 1900; cause of death: accident.'"
They all gathered around so they could read the scrawled entry.
"She was pretty young,” Jack observed. "Any idea how she died?" He was interested in spite of himself.
"No," Linda replied, transcribing the entry into a notebook she had pulled out of her backpack. "It doesn't say where she lived or where she was buried." She sounded disappointed.
"None of them do," Fitch said. "Is that important?"
"I need to find her grave," Aunt Linda said. "So we have to figure out what cemetery she's buried in. Unless they buried her on their own property. In which case we'd need to check the land records."
They were all concentrating so hard on their find that it took Jack a few seconds to process what he was hearing. He held up his hand for silence, then jerked his head toward the ceiling. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the floor above.
They all froze. There was a bitter, metallic taste in the back of Jack's mouth, and his heart felt like a desperate fish flopping about in his chest. Linda tilted her head back as if she could look through the rough planking into the room above. She let out her breath, a small, animal sound of fear. Then she quickly shut the ledger book and lifted it back into its niche. Almost simultaneously, a door opened at the top of the stairs and a pale rectangle of light appeared in the dark stairwell.
The staircase was between them and the door to the outside. "Go!" Aunt Linda hissed as she made a leap for the light switch. The room was plunged into darkness. Jack stumbled against the center table as he desperately felt his way to the outline of the outside door. Aunt Linda was crashing around behind him, making an unholy racket. What the hell was she doing? He could hear Will and Fitch somewhere ahead of him. He stole a quick look over his shoulder and saw a tall black silhouette at the top of the stairs, framed in the dirty yellow of the mercury vapor lights. He could make out no face or feature. As he watched, it turned to him.
Jack felt the touch of its attention like a physical blow. He staggered, grabbing a filing cabinet for support.
Suddenly Linda was beside him, fiercely pushing him forward. "You! Get moving! I'll meet you at the Bluebird Cafe in half an hour!"
Behind them, Jack heard a muffled exclamation, the sound of something heavy falling, then a string of curses. Will and Fitch must have reached the outside door, because gray light poured in from the stairwell. He scrambled after his friends. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard an explosion. There was a blinding flash of light, then something hit him square in the back, knocking him sprawling onto the concrete pad just outside the door. He came down on his hands and knees, and bit his tongue, hard. Blood tasted salty in his mouth. Then Will and Fitch each grabbed an arm and dragged him up the stairs and down the alleyway. When he finally found his feet, Jack twisted around to see if Linda was behind them, but the alley was empty.
The alley led back to the main square at the front of the courthouse. The street was still deserted. They sprinted across the green and squeezed between the bushes planted around the gazebo. There were three or four feet of space between the evergreens and the cinder block foundation of the building. They crouched there, breathing hard, looking back toward the courthouse, then wide-eyed at each other.
Finally Will spoke. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" Jack snapped. He had too many questions of his own to be answering theirs.
"That spooky dude on the stairs, for a start," Fitch replied. "The one with the cool light saber."
"Light saber? Be
Linda's lips moved silently as she turned the brittle pages over. "Here it is!" she said tersely. '"Susannah Downey born 1868; farmer's wife; died 12 May 1900; cause of death: accident.'"
They all gathered around so they could read the scrawled entry.
"She was pretty young,” Jack observed. "Any idea how she died?" He was interested in spite of himself.
"No," Linda replied, transcribing the entry into a notebook she had pulled out of her backpack. "It doesn't say where she lived or where she was buried." She sounded disappointed.
"None of them do," Fitch said. "Is that important?"
"I need to find her grave," Aunt Linda said. "So we have to figure out what cemetery she's buried in. Unless they buried her on their own property. In which case we'd need to check the land records."
They were all concentrating so hard on their find that it took Jack a few seconds to process what he was hearing. He held up his hand for silence, then jerked his head toward the ceiling. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the floor above.
They all froze. There was a bitter, metallic taste in the back of Jack's mouth, and his heart felt like a desperate fish flopping about in his chest. Linda tilted her head back as if she could look through the rough planking into the room above. She let out her breath, a small, animal sound of fear. Then she quickly shut the ledger book and lifted it back into its niche. Almost simultaneously, a door opened at the top of the stairs and a pale rectangle of light appeared in the dark stairwell.
The staircase was between them and the door to the outside. "Go!" Aunt Linda hissed as she made a leap for the light switch. The room was plunged into darkness. Jack stumbled against the center table as he desperately felt his way to the outline of the outside door. Aunt Linda was crashing around behind him, making an unholy racket. What the hell was she doing? He could hear Will and Fitch somewhere ahead of him. He stole a quick look over his shoulder and saw a tall black silhouette at the top of the stairs, framed in the dirty yellow of the mercury vapor lights. He could make out no face or feature. As he watched, it turned to him.
Jack felt the touch of its attention like a physical blow. He staggered, grabbing a filing cabinet for support.
Suddenly Linda was beside him, fiercely pushing him forward. "You! Get moving! I'll meet you at the Bluebird Cafe in half an hour!"
Behind them, Jack heard a muffled exclamation, the sound of something heavy falling, then a string of curses. Will and Fitch must have reached the outside door, because gray light poured in from the stairwell. He scrambled after his friends. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard an explosion. There was a blinding flash of light, then something hit him square in the back, knocking him sprawling onto the concrete pad just outside the door. He came down on his hands and knees, and bit his tongue, hard. Blood tasted salty in his mouth. Then Will and Fitch each grabbed an arm and dragged him up the stairs and down the alleyway. When he finally found his feet, Jack twisted around to see if Linda was behind them, but the alley was empty.
The alley led back to the main square at the front of the courthouse. The street was still deserted. They sprinted across the green and squeezed between the bushes planted around the gazebo. There were three or four feet of space between the evergreens and the cinder block foundation of the building. They crouched there, breathing hard, looking back toward the courthouse, then wide-eyed at each other.
Finally Will spoke. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" Jack snapped. He had too many questions of his own to be answering theirs.
"That spooky dude on the stairs, for a start," Fitch replied. "The one with the cool light saber."
"Light saber? Be
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